


A Broken Heart

by xbleeple



Series: Bad Things Happen 2019 [4]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Depression, Drug Abuse, Gen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 20:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18351035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xbleeple/pseuds/xbleeple
Summary: With her daughter gone, and no prospects of saving her, Helen starts to spiral into the darkness.





	A Broken Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my Bad Things Happen bingo card.
> 
> The prompt was Attempted Suicide and was inspired by a few songs:
> 
> •The House that Built Me by Miranda Lambert  
> •I Need a Ride Home by Carly Pearce  
> •Die from a Broken Heart by Maddie and Tae
> 
> Check out my progress on [tumblr](http://xbleeple.tumblr.com)!
> 
> \--
> 
> Please note that there are mentions of what constitutes as drug and alcohol abuse.

Henry pauses in the doorway to Helen’s room, watching as she puts clothes into a suitcase. He normally didn’t intrude but he’d been looking for her all day and so far no one had seen her outside of the living quarters.

"Going somewhere?" He asks.

"London," Helen replies shortly, not pausing as she continues to pack, "I don't know how long I'll be gone but Will is going to be in charge."

"Okay," He drawls slowly before tapping his short nails against the clipboard in his hands, "Do you mind signing this req form before you go?"

Helen silently holds out her hand, taking the clipboard and pen from him. She doesn't even scan the paperwork before flipping to the appropriate page and scribbling her signature. Henry takes it back and secures the pen on the clip before leaving the room. He pauses in the doorway once more and turns back, "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," She offers him a stilted smile before resuming her task and trekking off to her bathroom to get her toiletries together. He lingers for a moment before shaking his head and heading back downstairs to the lab.

It doesn't take Helen much longer to finish packing before she zips up her suitcase and grabs her purse, meeting a hired car out front of the Sanctuary. She sits quietly in the back as she looks out the window, completely looking past the scenery as she gets lost in her own thoughts. When the car pulls up to the Sanctuary's private jet she quietly thanks the driver before grabbing her things and climbing the stairs into the plane. She puts her bag away and drops down into one of the seats, pulling the seatbelt across her lap before fastening it and tightening.

As they power down the runway for take off she digs a prescription bottle out of her bag and shakes out two pills. She tosses them back with a heavy two fingers of scotch before putting the glass down and swallowing slowly. Her fingers curl against the denim of her jeans repeatedly until her senses start to get fuzzy and she buries her face into the hood of the sweatshirt she was wearing as she closes her eyes. It still smelled like Ashley.

Helen doesn't wake until they touch down in London and it takes a little effort to pull herself out of her drug and alcohol induced haze before she gets off of the plane and gets into the back seat of a black towncar. She manages to get into the London Sanctuary unnoticed, immediately b-lining for her room. 

After her mother had passed away she'd moved her things into her parents' room and kept it as her own even after she'd moved to Old City. She had given birth to Ashley in that room and they had spent their first two years together in London. Her daughter had slept in the same crib that she had when she was a baby and once she was older she managed to hog half of the king sized bed. She remembered giggles from under the sheets when the toddler was being obstinate while she was making the bed and having a warm, tiny body burrowed at her back by the end of the night. She could practically feel the soft blonde curls underneath her fingertips and smell the honey lavender soap in the air. Now she wished they had never left.

Usually she would give James notice that she would be coming by and have the room aired out. Although she supposed now it would be Declan that she would need to notify. This time she didn't care. Helen unpacks a few things before kicking off her boots, leaving them discarded on the floor as she climbs into the bed. She curls up in the middle, on top of the blankets, while still fully clothed and closes her eyes. She lets the last tendrils of her earlier medication pull her to sleep in the darkness of what was supposed to be her refuge. 

When she snaps awake a few hours later it's dark both inside and outside and the vice grip that seemed permanent in her chest hasn't lessened any. She lays quietly for a few moments, just listening to the sounds that were leaking into the room. A car horn being slammed on outside makes her head jerk and she pulls herself out of bed to dig out the pill bottle once more. This time she only takes one and washes it down with half a glass of water before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her boots back on. Her fingers falter slightly when she zips the second one up and she lets out a shuddering breath as she closes her shaking fingers into a tight fist.

Helen manages to slip back out of the house unnoticed, taking off down the street with only a credit card and ID in her pocket. There were very few things left in London that had been there while she was growing up. She feels her chest tighten as she continues to walk past the reminders of her age. Whole Foods, Tesco, McDonalds, Starbucks, Nando's. Pubs that were too flashy. Cell phone stores. Paved streets. Digital billboards. She walks and walks and walks until she turns abruptly and walks into Kensington Gardens. Her feet carry her into the heart of it before she steps over the hedge and walks out into the green space. 

She lays on the grass and looks up at the sky, not caring that the ground was damp. The light pollution basically ruined any sight of the stars, only making her think about how many she could see when she was a little girl. She swallows as she rubs a firm hand across her chest, willing the tightness to loosen just a little bit. She could almost hear Ashley's peels of laughter as a strong breeze rustles the leaves on the trees. They'd spent so much time here when she was a baby, sitting on the grass in the sun as Ashley learned to crawl and then walk. If John hadn't ruined England for her, her daughter certainly had.

She doesn't know how long she's been laying on the ground when a flashlight shines in her face. She lifts her hand to shield her eyes and swallows when she sees a police officer on the other end.

"Park closes at dark."

"Right," She nods and pushes herself to stand up, "Sorry. I forgot."

The officer follows her out of the park and she orients herself before heading back towards the Sanctuary. It was getting late and the bustling crowds were thinning the closer she got. She'd beg for someone to try to rob her right now, if only to get the chance to lash out.

She runs into Declan in the hallway after making a pit stop in the cellar, assuring him that she was simply there for a visit and would be out of his hair. If he thinks she doesn't notice the pitying look he gives her before she walks away to her quarters he's wrong. Inside her bedroom she locks the door and digs through her bag for pajamas, unearthing a sleep shirt of Ashley's. She wraps herself in the well worn cotton and swallows two more pills with half a bottle of wine before once again curling up in the middle of the bed, this time under the covers.

Helen spends most of the next few days in a drug and alcohol induced haze, drowning herself in memories of her daughter. Every day she feels her heart clench tighter and tighter and she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to dig herself out of the hole. So when she finds herself sitting in the middle of the bed with a straight razor in one hand and a storm raging outside, she doesn't stop herself as she drags the sharp blade against her skin, first along one side and then along the other. Between the booze, the pills, and the blood loss it doesn't take her long to black out and crumple into a heap.

If she's surprised at all when she wakes up she doesn't show it, she just runs her fingers over the bandages wrapped around her wrists before looking up at the infirmary ceiling. All she felt now was numb.

She doesn't talk to anyone for four days until Declan finds her standing in the hallway looking into her bedroom. Her suitcase was at her feet and her arms were crossed over her chest, white bandages still sticking out from underneath the cuffs of her shirt. The bed had been stripped of its linens and hadn't yet been remade. The curtains were thrown open in haste and pieces of furniture had been knocked around. She only looks away from the scene in front of her when Declan says her name.

"Put it all in storage. Everything."

"Everything? What about..."

"Everything," She cuts him off, looking over. She swallows and brushes her fingers over his bicep before going down to the car that was supposed to take her back to the airport and back to Old City. She wouldn't be coming back to London.

When she arrives at the Sanctuary late in the evening she brushes everyone off, pulling her sleeves down further as she heads for her bedroom. She pauses in the middle of the hallway once she passes the others' bedrooms, only her own and Ashley's left at the end of the hall. Her hand tightens on the handle to the suitcase and she looks over at Biggie as he walks up next to her.

"Put all of A...just put everything in storage and I'll move my things to the east wing tomorrow," She tells him before taking off in the opposite direction.

\---

It isn't until she's lying in bed across from Ashley over a century later, tracing the features of her daughter's smiling face with her fingertips that she finally feels her heart warm.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," She whispers.


End file.
